The Silver Soldier

XXXI

"What are you waiting for, Isaac? Permission?"

He looks over at Scott.

I scoff. Poor kid needs to ask his mommy before he does anything.

Scott shakes his head, slowly, as if making too much movement would get him killed. Isaac looks back at me, and I smile. "Don't you want to punch me, Isaac? Right here?" I tap my cheek. "I'm not Stiles, remember. You won't hurt him, only me." I say, he doesn't bite. I shrug. "If you don't go first, I will."

Might as well get a few hits in while I can.

If all goes to plan, I'll have to play nice for a while.

Isaac flexes his hands, his claws growing slowly from his nails.

I feel a grin forming.

I'm not going to kill him. That was my original plan, but I remind myself that I have to be patient, I can slaughter them all once my plan has been fulfilled. Isaac gets to live a little longer this time.

He moves at lightning speed, but like always, I see it coming.

Maybe I'm a little too cocky for my own good.

I step back slightly to the left, allowing his to go swinging past me. He stumbles, regaining his balance and taking yet another arching punch at my face. He has never been a good fighter, that's for sure.

At this point, I'm just trying to stall. Their back-up is here, I can hear the motors of the high-performance CIA boats at the dock. By the way Scott's eyes perk up, I'm guessing so can he. Isaac lunges, I take hold of his arm and use his own momentum to throw him over my hip. The boy hits the ground with a hard thump.

It takes him a second to get up after the wind was knocked out of him. Keeping my eyes on him, I speak to my friends behind me. "There's a boat on the north side, go to the safehouse in Kiev." I say in Mandarin, a language I am certain Scott and his pack do not know, including Lydia. "Do not worry about me, I have unfinished business to attend to."

They do not second guess my orders, leaving me alone to carry out my plan.

"Sit back down." I say to Isaac, disappointed in his performance. He couldn't even land a hit.

But he doesn't.

And then he does something I would never have expected.

He reaches for my gun.

I don't even bother to try and stop him. "Really, Isaac?" I watch as he raises it, bringing the muzzle level with my face. He's only a few feet away, about as far away as Theo had been when he had killed me. "What part of 'bullets don't kill me' did you not understand?"

"Put your hands up." He orders, motioning with the gun. "Now."

With a small smile, I comply.

I'm just humoring him.

"Get on your knees." He commands, still pointing the gun in my direction.

"Woah, kinky much." I chuckle, lowering myself to the ground. "I didn't know you were into that sort of thing, Isaac." I say, shrugging. "Not that I'm complaining."

His cheeks flush and he looks back at Scott, who is already up and untying my father. My father. I had almost forgotten he was there. I watch his reaction to being free, but he doesn't have one. He is staring at the bloody dirt, totally out of it. I guess that's what happens when you find out your only son is alive after two years.

"Did you really kill Mr. Horivan?" Isaac asks.

"One bullet." I tap my forehead. "Straight to the brain."

"Why?"

"I'm an assassin." I tell him. "It's in the job description."

"How many people have you killed?" He asks.

"A lot."

"How many." He pushes.

"I am not telling you that."

"Yes, you will." He pushes the muzzle of the gun against my forehead. I look up, past the barrel.

"No." In a split second, he lowers the gun, burying a bullet into my chest. I am thrown backwards by the force. I place a hand over the entry wound and stare at the silver blood that covers my fingers. I look back up at Isaac. "That wasn't very nice, now was it?"

"You will answer my question, or I will shoot you again." He grits. I feel like he just wanted to shoot me, his reasoning was so petty.

I scoff. "Think again, pretty boy." I begin to push myself off the ground, but he raises the gun again and I stay on my knees. "Shoot me, I dare you."

He looks hesitant.

"Isaac." Scott say his names, Isaac looks back. Normally, I would have used that mistake to attack, but I have to remind myself that I need them to capture me. Scott nods at the wall surrounding the compound, more specifically, at the part they had blown apart. I can hear footsteps in the woods, snapping branches, the rustling of grass, the crunching of leaves. 

The CIA is here.

I smile slightly. "Expecting company?"

"Shut up."

"That's not a very nice word you know." I say. "It kinda hurt my feelings."

Isaac is about done with me, I can tell.

I wouldn't be surprised if he shot me in the face just to get me to shut my mouth.

"Where are the rest?" One of the agents ask as he comes up to us. "We have a team searching the perimeter."

"They're probably long gone by now." Lydia speaks up, he voice steady. She composed herself, it doesn't look like she had been crying at all. "Don't bother, you won't find them."

"And him?" The same agent gestures to me. "What about him?"

"We're taking him with us, tell Fury that we're going to need the holding cell, he'll know which one I'm talking about." Scott says. "And I will need to speak with him once we get back."

"Yes, sir."

The agent nods before walking away to carry out his duties. I am left staring up at Isaac, silently taunting him. Pull the trigger. I can't tell if he's thinking about it or not. I hope so, I don't want to sit through a 14 hour flight back to America while conscious. That would be torture.

"Pull the fucking trigger, Isaac. What are you waiting for?" I sneer. "Just kill me already, anything would be better than having to look at your ugly face." I lie, in reality he's quite handsome. I'm just glad he grew out of his scarf phase... that was a rough time for him.

I continue to tease him, making fun of his for petty little things as I watch his finger tighten on the trigger. Scott should really take this gun away from him, a mother should never let her baby play with a weapon. "C'mon freezer boy, pull the damn trigger." I smirk. "Or are you too busy thinking about your childhood trauma to make a move? You couldn't kill your abusive father either, why should I be any diff-"

At that, I crossed the line.

He pulls the trigger.

I barely hear the gun go off before everything stops. There is no sound, no light, no sense of pain. Just dead silence.